


Some say I'll be without, but time is all we really have

by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted TommyInnit, Adopted Wilbur, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Philza Minecraft aka The Creator of Minecraft, Protective Wilbur Soot, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, adopted technoblade, why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan/pseuds/Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan
Summary: tommy felt so stupid for crying in the school bathroom.everything had just felt so intensely wrong today.(if any cc's are uncomfortable i will immediately take this down!! enjoy sbi foster au brainrot :)--all lowecase on purpose )
Relationships: Philza Minecraft & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 56
Kudos: 869





	1. Light an L to alleviate the head stress

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmm vent fic time

tommy felt so stupid for crying in the school bathroom.

everything had just felt so intensely  _ wrong _ today. he had woken up hours before he had set the alarm, all because of his stupid fucking bed sheets. they had gotten tangled as the boy had slept, resulting in an uncomfortable tightness underneath his skin. 

and he had tried to fall back asleep, but he couldnt seem to ignore the way his stupid bedsheets felt over his skin. by the time tommy had managed to fall back into a somewhat restful state, techno had bagred into his room. 

his older brother was too loud, too there, too present. normally tommy would be fine with it, even matching the others monotone exclamations, but today it just made tommy grind his teeth. 

everything felt so wrong. 

the car ride to school had only made things worse. the radio music was too loud, the car seat was too cold. It made tommys hands itch. normally tommy loved listening to wilbur hum along to whatever pop song was playing. 

today it just made an alarming amount of frustration well up in his throat. he clenched his fists so his nails dug into his palms.

so wrong. everything just felt so so wrong. 

in foster care, tommy would constantly get made fun of. adults would coo at him, whispering things like “look at tommy! what an organized boy, so silly with his fidgeting”. It was annoying as shit, but tommy had preferred it to the alternative. 

the children. they would whisper behind his back. it had been so much worse. 

“look at tommy, hes so weird” 

“why does he keep moving things around? Is he ocd or something?” 

“he keeps playing with his sweater. what is he, five?” 

“doesnt he know no one will want to adopt him if he gets scared of fucking loud noises? I mean, i dunno about you, but i wouldnt want a kid who shakes in a ball when i move his fuckin book” 

he hadnt known what they had meant, at the time. he had spent hours sneaking away to whatever electronic he had available searching up terms and questions. 

tommy had learned, through many bad experiences, that asking adults about these things wasnt good. they would tightly grip his wrist, get angry, annoyed,  _ frustrated _ , because he wasnt normal. tommy understood that feeling perfectly. 

they were right. tommy wasnt normal. tommy was weird and bad and no one would want him because he was just  _ worthless _ . 

and yet, here he was. adopted by a wonderful man named philza, with two very cool brothers, techno and wilbur. he was so grateful, and so  _ afraid _ . 

tommy didnt want to mess up. these people helped him, provided for him, made him happy. he didnt want to take all of that away just because of his weird  _ things. _

__ his fidgeting, his intense interest in an oddly specific topic, his weird sounds that he made on occassion. it was-it was  _ weird _ and  _ not normal.  _

so he had taken a deep breath, steeled himself for the day, and gotten out of the car. wilbur had already gotten out, patting tommy on the back before walking into school. 

the quick contact had almost made tommy gag. it had been unexpected, and normally he loved physical touch. it grounded him and reminded him that he was safe. but today it had just made his skin feel even tighter.

dont be weird, tommy. be normal. be normal. nothing is wrong.

tommy went through his classes in a daze. it had probably been the hardest day of school in the entire world, and not because of the work. every classroom he went in was headache inducing.

the worst class, though, had been the period right before lunch. it was history, tommys least favorite class. 

with the bright fluorescent lights that burned his eyes, the yelling and throwing of items around the room, the quiet scraping of chairs and press of a marker against the whiteboard. It made tommys head pound. 

he had no friends in that class, and the most rowdy kids were all stuck in the same classroom. generally tommy would join in, playing the role of the class clown perfectly. 

but today he couldnt-he couldnt because his head was too loud and everything was  _ too much _ and if he heard a desk screech as it was moved  _ one more time _ he was going to punch someone-

with a startle of embarrassment tommy had realized tears were building in his eyes. no one had noticed, of course, his subdued behavior. when tommy was there he was there, but if he wasnt there he was gone. 

that made no sense, but tommy couldnt care less. his mind didnt make sense to anyone, much less him. 

swallowing, tommy blinked away his tears. 

why was everything so wrong? 

before he knew it, his fingers were twitching and his foot was frantically tapping the floor. worry rushed up his throat. everyone could hear him, they could all hear his foot on the ground, sneakers slamming into tile. 

he had to be normal. be normal. everythings fine. dont get kicked out. the school will call philza if you keep this up. surely philza wont be willing to keep a stupid child like you in the house. 

right as tommy was about to burst into tears in front of the whole class, the lunch bell rang. the sound was clammy and high pitched, ringing and ringing and ringing and-

it was fine. It was all fine, it was all fine, everything was okay, he was fine, he was  _ fine- _

tommy barely paid attention as he scrambled out of his seat, focused on getting out. the air was too hot, it filled up the room to the point of suffocation. his hands wouldnt stop shaking, and he quietly whimpered in frustration. 

haphazardly shoving his papers into his backpack, tommy managed to get out of the classroom and to the restroom. the walk there was full of blurry shapes and a deafening cacophony of buzzing. 

locking himself into a stall, tommy sunk down, back against the wall. he didnt care how dirty it was, how unsanitary. tommy didnt care about tubbo and ranboo, who were probably waiting at their regular lunch table. 

instead, tommy buried his head in his hands. he was so ashamed at the tears that trailed down his face, the pounding in his head, the ringing in his ears. god this was so-so pathetic. 

nothing had even  _ happened _ for him to be crying and breaking down in the stall of a shitty public school bathroom. he felt so stupid. 

some kid walked into the bathroom, and a flash of panic ran through tommys veins, more powerful than any rush of adrenaline. 

he couldnt breathe. tommy realized with a start that  _ he couldnt breathe. _ chest tight, palms clammy, tommy tried to suck in air. it didnt work, which only increased the panic running through him. 

he was fine, he was fine, he had to be fine, he couldnt be weird, not normal, he was normal, tommy was normal, he was-

tommy was not fine. tommy was so far from fine it was almost fucking funny. fine didnt mean hyperventalating. fine didnt mean gagging at the smallest touch of his skin. fine didnt mean irritation at a bright light or a headache at a quiet sound. 

as his head felt lighter and lighter, tommy realized he was going to pass out. tears streaking his face, chest heaving, tommy was going to faint on this disgusting bathroom floor in the middle of lunch period. 

with shaky hands, tommy reached towards the backpack carelessly thrown on the floor. he managed to unzip it after a few frustrating seconds. 

peering into the bag, tommy felt nausea and panic rise in him as he gazed at the disorganized state inside . It was going to take  _ hours _ to fix his meticulously organized binders and papers. he had spent the whole day before school placing each thing carefully. it had taken hours-if it wasnt placed right tommy had to pick it up and put it down until it  _ was, _

he didnt understand it, and he doubted anyone else would either. 

somehow, tommy managed to grab his phone. it almost fell out of his hands multiple times, but he got his hands to tightly hold the sides of the device. he needed to tell someone-or else he was going to die. 

he was going to pass out on this bathroom floor and die. maybe it was a stark overdramatization of the situation, but to tommy it was all he could think about. this was a fact, in his head. the sky is blue and if he kept going like this he would die. 

“shit.” tommy muttered, trying to open up the messages app. it was so hard, why was everything so  _ hard _ . 

vision blurry, tommy pressed on the first contact he saw. 

**Tommy: ples hfkelp**

**Tommy: cna t breathe**

**Tommy: p;ease**

**Philza: Tommy? Whats going on? Are you okay?**

**Tommy: cant gbretahe**

**Tommy: too much**

**Philza: Okay mate, can you take some deep breaths for me?**

**Tommy: chest hurts**

**Tommy: mightut pass ouit**

**Philza: Oh my god please don’t pass out**

**Philza: I’m going to text Wilbur and ask him to get you and take you home, alright?**

**Philza: Where are you?**

**Tommy: bathroom**

**Tommy: outuisde history**

**Philza: Thank you, we’ll get you home soon**

now all tommy had left to do was wait. and not pass out, which seemed to be harder than it should. 

he wondered if ranboo and tubbo had noticed he was gone. he wondered if maybe they were happy, if they just thought he was the weird adopted kid who they  _ had _ to be nice to. 

tommy had never really had friends before. he wondered why he thought things would change. nothing ever changed. 

his mind stayed the same. it was horrible and annoying and a bitch and tommy hated it. head hitting the wall, tommy felt his eyes droop. 

black spots filled his head, exploding around in his ears. 

he was so tired. 

\-------------

wilbur had been sitting at the lunch table when he had gotten the text. 

fundy was manically denying the accusation that he was a furry, which had been made by hbomb. for some reason the other had also decided to call fundy ‘master’. 

yeah, none of them really wanted to ask about that one. 

nikki and minx where whispering about something, probably talking shit about whatever unfortunate soul had annoyed minx that day. despite nikki’s soft voice, wilbur knew better than anyone that she was one of the best sources of gossip in the school. 

he himself was sitting next to fundy, the other boy desperately begging for him to come to his defense. wilbur just grinned and shook his head, cooing at fundy. 

“my cute little furry son.” his tone was sickly sweet. fundy just gaped at him in shock. 

“i-when was i your son? you know what, i cant believe my own father would betray me like this. im disowning you.” 

hbomb chimed in gleefully, enjoying fundys pain. 

“thats not how that works, master.” 

just as fundy was starting to respond, wilburs phone buzzed. he tuned out whatever the others were saying, picking the device up to read whatever message he had been sent. 

during the school day, wilbur kept his phone on do not disturb. the only people he would get notifications for were techno, tommy, and philza. 

worry crawled up in his throat as he read the message. he only got more and more concerned once he finished reading. abruptly, he stood up. 

everyone paused in conversation, looking at him in concern. 

“where are you going wilbur?” fundy asked, curiosity lining his face. 

wilbur just shook his head, exhaling. “something-something is wrong with tommy.” 

fundys expression got more serious, and he nodded in understanding. ever since the household had adopted the gremlin child, the boy had grown on everyone. 

he had every single person wrapped around his thumb. because despite his brash attitude, he was  _ funny  _ and  _ genuine _ and it was easy to see how grateful he was. wilbur especially had a soft spot for tommy, plain for everyone to see. 

“go. let us know if you need anything.” nikki murmured. she shooed away wilburs worried glance. 

he nodded, grabbing his bag and strolling out of the lunchroom. his pace got faster and faster as he strolled through the hallways, uncaring of who he might have bumped into. 

**Philza: Tommy’s having a panic attack in the bathroom outside of the history classroom. Can you calm him down and bring him home?**

wilbur hadnt even responded, he realized. it was alright, he assumed philza knew that he was willing to drop anything for tommy. 

pushing open the door, wilbur walked into the bathroom. all of the stalls were empty, except one. it was locked, and wilbur could hear choked breaths and broken sobs coming from behind it. 

“tommy?” he murmured, voice soothing and gentle. 

he approached the stall, softly knocking on the door. he realized with a start that this was kind of weird, but he forced away the anxiety of someone walking in. tommy was more important right now. 

“wil-wilby?” a scratchy hoarse voice responded, and wilbur almost winced at the gasping breaths that came after it. 

“its me, tommy. can you open the door please?” 

wilbur waited as seconds turned into minutes. eventually, he heard feet shuffling and watched as the door slowly unlocked. 

hiding his sigh of relief, wilbur shifted his stance so he could view tommy a little better. the boy looked like shit, eyes puffy and chest heaving. if wilbur didnt know any better he would assume tommy was having an asthma attack. 

“oh, tommy.” wilbur quietly exclaimed. he moved forwards to comfort tommy, hesitantly stopping mid-reach. 

“can i touch you?” sometimes when techno was having an anxiety attack he adamantly refused any sort of skin to skin contact. wilbur could understand, sort of. 

tommy shook his head quickly. 

“okay, okay. thats fine. can you breathe with me? inhale, exhale. Inhale and exhale, yeah? just like that. you’re doing great tommy. deep breaths. do you think you can move?” 

wilbur was thankful tommys breathing was coming easier, no longer the pained wheezing he had heard when he first got to the bathroom. despite the progress they had made, wilbur noticed tommys shoulders minutely shaking. 

“i-headphones?” tommy weakly tried to convey what the issue was. he wanted to leave, wanted to get out of this stupid stuffy bathroom stall. but outside was-was people and lights and sounds and that was too much. 

thankfully, wilbur seemed to understand. he unzipped his bag, pulling out soundproof headphones along with a pair of sunglasses. tommy almost cried in relief as he shakily took the pair and slid them over his ears.

silence. blissful silence. 

without touching him, wilbur led tommy outside. with the glasses the lights were much less overwhelming, allowing tommy relief. 

the two walked outside of the school, tommy following wilbur to his car. opening up the car door, wilbur waited for tommy to climb into the backseat before getting into the drivers. 

he sent a quick message to philza, letting the man know that they were on their way. glancing up at the rearview mirror, he watched as tommy sunk into the backseat of the car, resting his head against the window. 

knowing better, wilbur didnt turn the radio on. they drove home in silence, with wilbur trying to stay as quiet as possible. 

about halfway through the drive, tommy had falled asleep. wilbur allowed his chest to relax, tension in his shoulders unfolding. 

pulling into the driveway, wilbur saw a worried philza sitting on the porch. as soon as the father caught sight of them, he sprung up. 

parking the car, wilbur got out. 

“hi dad.” 

before wilbur had the chance to say anything else, his adoptive father embraced him in a hug, which wilbur gladly sunk into. despite being taller than philza, wilbur felt like a little kid everytime the man hugged him. 

it was so easy to sink into the embrace. especially after the anxiety inducing afternoon he had. 

eventually philza pulled away from his son, smiling up at him. 

“thank you for taking tommy home. i’ll email the school later so they give you an excused absence for the classes you missed. and obviously your friends are welcome to come over and help you with whatever you missed.” 

humming quietly to himself, wilbur nodded. 

“tommys in the back, he fell asleep. i think he was having some sensory issues-no touch, he seemed realy anxious about skin to skin contact.” 

philza nodded, opening up the backseat. true to wilburs word, tommy was there, slumped over and fast asleep. 

glancing up at wilbur, philza motioned to tommy. with some teamwork, the two managed to get tommy inside the house, laying him on the couch. 

with the adrenaline wearing off, wilbur stretched his arms. philza was in the kitchen, stress baking, and techno was still at school. 

he supposed he had some time for a nap. 

“come get me when he wakes up!” wilbur yelled as he walked up the stairs. opening up the door to his room, wilbur barely even shut it before falling face-first onto his blessed bed. 

eyes shut, he fell asleep. 

\----------

hours later, he woke up to someone poking his side. 

groaning, wilbur rubbed the sleepiness away from his eyes. blinking a few times, his vision came to him. standing in front of him was philza, with a more than worried expression on his face. 

“tommys awake.” 

  
  
  



	2. Turbulence is more than mere disturbances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, so this was happening. tommy half thought this was some cracked nightmare, thought that he would suddenly open his eyes and it would be back to the beginning of the day. 
> 
> suddenly, everyone was looking at him.
> 
> (again if any cc's are uncomfortable with this i will ofc take it down!! )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything i write about is partly based off my own experience with adhd !! i am in fact diagnosed by a professional and on medication for it, but i have shit memory so i might accidentally leave a few details out!! anyways yes sorry for not updating this for a while

so, turns out, tommy  _ wasnt _ going to get kicked out of the house. 

in hindsight, it was a little dumb of him to think that. he had seen wilbur have panic attacks before, had seen techno have anxiety attacks, even seen philza breakdown crying after a hard day of work. 

he just...didnt think that would apply to him. tommy, always the butt of the joke, always the exception. 

really, he didnt understand why phil and wilbur were sitting across from him, empathy on their faces.

they shouldnt be looking so kind, so  _ nice _ . 

they should be yelling at him, telling him about how he ruined the day, how he was stupid for getting overwhelmed. 

_ normal _ people dont get overwhelmed to the point of breaking down in a school bathroom. 

_ normal _ people dont flinch away from anyones touch because it ‘feels wrong’. 

_ normal _ people dont spend hours picking something up and placing it back down in the exact same place until it ‘feels right’. 

here tommy was, in this normal family, being  _ not normal _ . 

sure, technoblade got anxious a lot, but thats okay because he’s  _ techno _ , one of the smartest people ever. 

sure, wilbur had days where he couldnt even get out of bed, but thats okay because hes  _ wilbur _ , one of the most talented musicians ever. 

tommy was just...tommy. 

he wasnt interesting, wasnt special, didnt excel in any ways. he wasnt particularly smart, particularly unique. 

tommy was loud, brash, annoying, and irritating in every way. he knew it, people around him knew it, but this family didnt.

he wanted to cry from confusion. he just didnt understand. 

_ why _ did they want him here. what did he give them? what did they need from him? 

there was something wrong with him-he was a broken toy, manufacturing all messed up. there was no reason to keep him around. 

“whats running through that big brain of yours, tommy?” phil gently asked. his tone was quiet and light. tommy felt like he might cry hearing it. 

“are you really not kicking me out?” anxiety pushed itself into his voice, resulting in shakiness and hesitancy. he hated it.

he wasnt a fucking child too afraid to face consequences.

phil sighed heavily, glancing at wilbur before back at tommy. 

“nah mate. techno should be home soon, so once he gets here we can talk.” 

_ techno. _

shit, tommy forgot about techno. 

humiliation welled up in his throat. the idea that techno, one of the coolest people tommy knew, would see him like  _ this _ was nauseating. 

his shoulders minutely trembled. before he could get a handle on them, his thoughts started spiraling out of control. 

techno would see tommy like this and decide that tommy wasnt good enough. no more late night movies, no more vocabulary games, no more history trivia. 

techno would hate him, make fun of him, ignore him. probably feel disgusted at being called brothers with someone so un-cool. tommy understood. he wouldnt want to be related to himself, either. 

self loathing welled up in his throat, and tommy couldn’t bring himself to shove it back down. he didn’t know how long they had been sitting in silence, waiting for techno. wilbur was scrolling through his phone, and philza was skimming through a book. 

tommy didn’t get how they could act so nonchalant. 

he wanted to lock himself in his room, sit in the dark alone like he should be. he doesnt deserve everyone being so  _ fucking _ nice, especially when so many people deserved it so much more than him. 

tommy got so lost in his thoughts that he didnt even notice the doorknob twisting. it wasnt until phil stood that tommy glanced up to see what was happening. his breath caught in his throat as he saw a head of pink hair poke through the door. 

his ears were ringing. tommys chest felt tight, and he realized with fear that he couldnt bring himself to move. he was frozen, terrified of what technoblade would think. 

but it was more than that, wasnt it? 

he was scared of what would come after. would they send him back? would they send him to a psych ward? kick him out? hate him? 

swallowing, he glanced back down, unwilling to look at any of the surrounding people. he heard the sound of the chair in front of him being pulled out, someone taking a seat. if tommy moved-if tommy  _ spoke _ , he would burst into tears immediately. 

“hey gremlin child. heard you had an eventful day, huh?” a raspy voice spoke, and tommy immediately knew who it was. 

he didnt say anything. 

“shit. um, hey tommy, can you look at me?” 

shoulders shaking, tommy slowly looked up. techno looked as put together as he always did, hair neatly tied in a tight braid, expression neutral. behind his eyes was a slight softness only reserved for their family. 

“there we go. your hair is getting longer, you know. maybe later ill see if i can braid it, yeah? how does that sound?” 

tommy had to admit, it sounded pretty nice. he nodded slightly, startling when phil cleared his throat. 

okay, so this was happening. tommy half thought this was some cracked nightmare, thought that he would suddenly open his eyes and it would be back to the beginning of the day. 

suddenly, everyone was looking at him. the anxiety that had been sitting in the bottom of his chest rose up his throat, and he dug his nails into his palms in an attempt to prevent the feeling from escaping. 

laughing nervously, tommy instinctively brought his hand to rub at the back of his neck. he didnt know what they wanted from him. 

phil looked at him with slight pity, audibly sighing. 

“mate, tommy, you know we have to talk about what happened earlier. i was-i was really worried when i got your messages.” phil let out a bit of an exhale at the reminder of his panic earlier. 

“im not trying to punish you. im not mad at you. i just want to work with you to figure out what we can do to prevent this from happening in the future, yeah? its why i wanted your brothers here during this discussion.” 

tommy found it a little hard to believe. the whole ‘im not mad at you.’ logically, tommy knew phil had no good reason to lie about that. 

his past foster homes had proven that. 

if phil was angry, tommy would  _ know.  _ phil didnt seem angry. his brain kept telling him that phil was faking, that phil was actually horribly mad. 

his brain was on some bullshit, tommy decided. 

“i...um, i dont know where to s-start i guess?” the idea of opening up about  _ everything _ sent tommys mind spinning. 

there was so much wrong with him that it seemed easier to actively ignore it all then even attempt to explain it. 

wilbur nodded his head, seemingly taking over the discussion. 

“okay, how about lets start with today. walk us through your day.” tommy relaxed his shoulders, palms untensing slightly. 

he could do that. he could talk about today. his mind reminded him that soon he would have to talk about  _ everything _ , but tommy ignored it. his mind was just trying to psyche him out. it wouldnt be that bad. 

it wouldnt. 

( _ would it?)  _

(shut up)

“I woke up a bunch of times, because my fucking sheets were getting tangled and i couldnt fall back asleep and the-the texture was off and they kept on getting caught and-” tommy found himself to be near tears at remembering this morning. 

_ god, _ this was so pathetic. he was freaking out over talking about his  _ fucking sheets. _ what an embarassment, a pathetic piece of shit who flipped out over the texture of his sheets, horrible, selfish-

“tommy?” techno’s voice cut through tommys thoughts like a blade, effectively destroying the start of his spiral. eyes snapping up, tommy blinked a few times. 

they all looked worried. 

( _ you did that _ ) 

tommy didnt have the energy to respond to his brain. it was right, anyways. 

“s-sorry, um, sorry. its- that was really stupid. really fucking stupid.” oh, now wilbur was frowning. tommy didnt like it when wilbur frowned. he looked like a fuckin kicked puppy. 

“not stupid, tommy. i dunno about you, but that sounds pretty frustrating. do you reckon you can continue to tell us about today?” 

tommy nodded unwillingly. he wondered why. it wasnt as though he wanted to tell them about his shit day and his shit brain and his shit thoughts. 

but he did it anyways. 

“the sheets were fucked, and uh, my head really hurt. my skin felt-felt wrong? all day, especially when people touched me. everything was too loud, even small noises. it was like i was a fuckin superhero with like, enhanced senses or some shit. and in, uh, in history people were yelling and throwing things and the lights were so-so fucking bright. and then i started hyperventalating in the bathroom.” 

tommy frowned. when he said it out loud it seemed so  _ small _ , like a minor inconvenience instead of a panic attack. 

“sounds like sensory overload.” techno muttered quietly, glancing at tommy in thought. 

once, tommys social worker had accidentally opened the door to his room while he was changing. he thought he had felt exposed then, but that moment paled in comparison to now. it felt like he had peeled away layers of his brain, putting them up on a presentation board.

“hey tommy, weird question coming up. do you, uh, have trouble concentrating sometimes?” techno asked.

tommy just shrugged. 

“sometimes? i interrupt the teacher a lot, and cant really do things that are time-consuming, so thats probably why i have trouble concentrating.” 

techno nodded, looking like tommy had provided him with a revelation unknowingly. 

he didnt really understand, but tommy trusted techno. he was really smart, like, genius level, so the older boy was likely correct in whatever conclusion he had come to. 

“techno, you think-?” phil asked.

techno nodded. 

wilbur shrugged. “makes sense.” 

frustration welled up in tommy. could they just-could they be transparent for one fucking second? he had a right to know what they were talking about. 

“could you stop being cryptic for a fucking second? i dont know if you could tell, but im a bit fucking stupid. theres a reason my teachers call me a problem child.” 

tommys chest was heaving, and he paused in the middle of his rant to catch his breath. his inhales and exhales were worryingly fast, chest rising and falling quickly. 

“i dont know what fucking sensory overload is, i dont know what conclusion you guys have come to about me, but what i do know is somethings wrong with me and no one is fucking telling me anything!” 

he didnt mean to escalate into yelling. he really didnt. his emotions had just sort of...bubbled over. 

there was silence. 

this was stupid. this was so fucking dumb. tommy had just ruined everything, all because he was too sensitive and stupid. 

“sensory overload means you get overstimulated from the environment around you. its...what it sounds like, an overload of your senses. we think you might have adhd, but obviously we wont know unless you get evaluated by a psychiatrist.” techno murmured. 

tommy almost laughed at how quickly his brother had switched into ‘teacher’ mode.

as soon as he processed what techno had actually said though, tommys eyes widened. that sounded like a lot. that sounded like  _ too much. _ that sounded fucking terrifying. 

“i dont need to see a fuckin psychiatrist or whatever. im not  _ crazy _ , i dont have adhd or whatever you called it. im just-im just broken. somethings just wrong with me, i think.” 

tommy brought his hand back up to scratch at his neck, the movement almost comforting. he didnt even realize how hard he was scratching until phil gently swatted his hand away. 

“you dont need to be ‘crazy’ to see a psychiatrist. i see a psychiatrist and a therapist, tommy, does that make me crazy?” phil gently asked. 

tommy shook his head. 

“but thats-thats  _ different _ .” his frustration bled through his words. 

“why is it different, tommy?” 

there it was again. the fucking gentle soft tone. phil sounded so  _ nice _ and it made tommys blood boil for no good reason. 

“because you have a job and have to raise three kids so it  _ makes sense _ for you to see a psychiatrist. im an annoying irresponsible sixteen year old child who needs to learn how to grow up and be fucking  _ normal _ for once.” tommy exclaimed. he felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

he hoped they would finally understand now. hoped they would get that tommy was just being overdramatic like he always was. just being sensitive. 

judging by the expressions on their faces, tommy guessed he had said something wrong. he wasnt really sure what it was though, because his exclamation had made perfect sense to him. 

“do you really think that about yourself?” wilbur sounded sad. 

tommy didnt like it when wilbur was sad, but he couldnt really bring himself to lie. he did think that about himself, and he didnt understand why it was being made into such a big deal because it was  _ right. _

“yeah? I dont understand why its such a thing. you cant tell me im not annoying, i know i am. i bother people, im loud, im distracting, im immature, and im a bit of a selfish asshole. its sort of just-just how it is?” 

phil shuffled forward a bit and gently took tommys hand into his own. he looked sad. why did everyone look so sad? 

“mate, look at me. you dont bother any of us, okay? you bring energy into the room. you add so much to our lives everyday, and if you werent here we would all be dull boring people with no sense of humor.” 

tommy blinked a few times. phil sounded absolutely serious. glancing at wilbur and techno, he saw that they both wore similar expressions to phil. 

huh. 

“i, um, i have adhd tommy. i see a therapist. and take medication that was, you know, prescribed by a psychiatrist. its not-” techno exhaled, struggling to figure out the right words to say. 

the concept of therapy came so easy to him that he almost didnt know how to explain it to someone else. 

“im not ‘broken’ or anything, its just good to have someone to talk to. someone who can listen to your problems, someone who you know wont tell anyone else. the best part, to be honest, is that if you dont like your therapist, you can just find a new one.” 

wilbur nodded in agreement. the older boy had stayed mostly silent throughout the whole discussion, offering little tidbits here and there. 

“i had to go through three different therapists before i found one that suited me best. sometimes you dont even need to have anything wrong, like techno said. its just someone to talk to.” 

humming to himself, tommy shut his eyes in thought. no one told him about how scary this part would be. 

“fuckin-fine, i guess. ill try the therapy bullshit. but if-if i dont like it, promise you wont make me go.” 

phil nodded, a grateful smile crossing his worn face. 

“of course mate. if you dont like it, we wont make you go. thank you tommy, for telling us and letting us help you. we can talk about academic testing a little later, but for now dont worry about it.” 

the group sat in silence for a little bit.

eventually, wilbur stood up.

“im going to be in my room, probably in a call with my friends. so, uh, sorry in advance if you hear yelling.” 

phil laughed. 

“its fine mate, not nearly as bad as when tommy is on call with tubbo.”

the aforementioned boy scowled, even though phil was probably right.

it wasnt his fault tubbo invoked visceral feelings of anger in him whenever the boy said something dumb. seriously, who thinks bees are going to take over the world anyways? 

“i agree phil, the gremlin child  _ is _ very loud. also, would it be okay if dream came over for dinner?” 

phil blinked, tilting his head in confusion. techno scowled. 

“dream, as in the bastard in a green hoodie who thinks hes better than me because he got an A+ in the  _ one  _ class where i got an A-. that dream?” 

wilbur nodded, wincing a little when techno brought up the rivalry the two had. 

“yeah. i know you guys dont like eachother, but hes been having some trouble at home. so i asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner tonight.” 

techno let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“i suppose i can accept having his unpleasant company in our home for one night.” 

wilbur simply rolled his eyes at the dramatic response, hiding a smile and heading up to his room. 

turning to tommy, techno gently poked the boy on his shoulder.

“do you want to come to my room? i want to see if i can braid your hair. plus, i need to make sure my brother isnt getting rusty in his knowledge of greek mythology.” 

faking irritation, tommy groaned, slumping his upper half down. techno just stared at him. eventually tommy caved. 

“fine, fine. you can braid my hair or whatever.” 

phil waved the two away. stretching, he unlocked his phone before pressing on the contacts app. 

he had a phone call to make. 

**Author's Note:**

> make sure to get some water and take a break if you havent!!! stretch, walk around, get some fresh air, remember im proud of you for waking up today!!


End file.
